Zou Yan first remembered He Dongli’s name back when they were rotating through general surgery during their internship.
There was a seven-year-old boy transferred in from the emergency department, suffering from frequent paroxysmal abdominal pain.
Despite undergoing all the relevant examinations during his hospitalization, no abnormalities were found.
The child’s symptoms gradually eased, coinciding with the school enrollment period.
His single mother, anxious to return to work, insisted on discharge, convinced the boy’s symptoms were merely feigned out of school refusal.
The attending physician sought the help of their supervising teacher for a second opinion. During her undergraduate internship, the teacher had encountered a similar patient.
After consultation, no abnormality was found.
The patient was about to be discharged, but the attending physician persistently reminded the family— even following up with phone calls—that if the symptoms recurred, they should return for another dynamic electroencephalogram.
Ultimately, the boy was diagnosed with Atypical Abdominal Epilepsy.
By the time the family returned to express their gratitude, the female doctor had already rotated to another department.
Their supervisor, Zhou Laoshi, praised this female student highly.
Everyone often said that emergency abdominal syndrome was like opening a blind box through the belly, and also joked that general surgery wasn’t a place for women.
Zhou Laoshi corrected them: clearly, their sample size of female surgeons was insufficient.
That day, Zou Yan’s father had just come down from an academic conference and stopped by to see him.
Over dinner with Zhou Laoshi, the latter mentioned He Dongli’s name.
After the meal, Zou Siming used this as ammunition, mocking his son: “Old Zhou would rather praise a female doctor who has rotated out than mention you. Reflect on yourself. If a girl can endure such hardships, what are you doing, wasting your time?”
On the way home with his father, Zou Yan first voiced his desire to change his major.
Zou Siming asked the driver to pull over, and the father and son debated for half an hour.
Zou Yan admitted he really couldn’t handle the current pace.
Zou Siming’s words pierced him like a boomerang, repeatedly stabbing at his brow: “Girls can handle pressure, withstand hardships, and even have better talent than you. Have you even tried?”
It was only the second time in his life Zou Yan hated someone so much.
The first was his full brother Zou You.
Indeed, whenever parental guidance failed, his father would always reminisce about his eldest son.
“If Zou You were here…”
Zou Yan snapped angrily, “He’s gone, gone forever. If you can’t let him go, go find him yourselves.”
The response was a harsh slap.
On the way back to the hospital, a thunderstorm broke out.
Zou Yan, soaked through, reached the dormitory building just as the rain stopped.
He ran into He Dongli, who was about to go for a night run.
Seeing him drenched, she asked, “You didn’t bring an umbrella but still insisted on walking back?”
Zou Yan wanted to take out his anger on her.
At worst, he thought, he could curse her away and never speak to her again.
She pulled out a few crumpled tissues from her pocket.
“I was going for a run, didn’t bring many.”
Zou Yan stared blankly at her.
He Dongli, reading the moment, quietly stuffed the tissues into his palm and left without a word.
To this day, she never asked what happened that night.
Zou Yan believed He Dongli treated everyone the same—neither too close nor too distant, just enough.
At a drinking party with her friends, he once said that being friends with He Dongli was like having an insurance company’s comfort zone.
Every year, you pay her premium; all risks are covered.
If something happens, don’t worry—just pay a little more next year and start over.
But he never imagined that the minor mistakes he couldn’t see in the operating room would, at some moment, magnify endlessly before his eyes.
He Dongli, afraid to be alone in a room with her ex, yet somehow resenting Zou Yan for encroaching on their space.
The irritability and bitterness in her eyes were foreign to Zou Yan—traits a woman with her talent should never have.
Holding her phone, she explained carelessly, “Well, he has to wait for his driver. His driving skills are terrible, and I don’t want to take responsibility if something happens…”
People usually steady and calm like her, when telling lies, were really pitiful.
Zou Yan hit right on the spot, “Oh? Then how did he drive here?”
The little liar fell silent.
After a pause, Zou Yan smiled lightly, loosened his crossed arms, stretched, and gave up on tormenting her.
“I should go back now.”
Zong Chi pulled out his car keys and locked the car.
As they returned to the opposite building, He Dongli and Zou Yan came out together.
Zong Chi approached, watched He Dongli answer a phone call, then stepped away a few paces, seemingly to pick up some takeout.
He faced Zou Yan squarely.
Zou Yan still carried the same courteous demeanor from the last time they met at the Liang family home and reminded Zong Chi, “Her good friend brought her some Butterfly Pastry and she’s holding it right now.”
Zong Chi was not very warm.
Usually calm and composed, he had no reason to show a friendly face to a man delivering gifts to a female colleague late at night.
They passed each other with a slight distance between them.
Zong Chi glanced back, “Doctor Zou, is your friend’s grandmother’s wound healing well?”
Zou Yan instinctively turned his head, his expression shifting from calm to twisted—at least, unhappy.
Playing with his car keys across the street, Zong Chi remotely locked and unlocked the car.
Casting a glance toward He Dongli, unwilling to implicate her, he said, “Don’t misunderstand, she wouldn’t tell me.”
Zou Yan was silent again.
Zong Chi smiled with relaxed eyes, unshaken by the cold night wind—the air of a privileged young master born with a silver spoon.
He Dongli returned, and Zong Chi decided to back off.
He gave a half-hearted compliment: “So even doctors can’t do without doctor friends, huh?”
He Dongli carried a bag and, at the door, heard Zong Chi politely say to Zou Yan, “Goodbye, Doctor Zou.”
Zou Yan didn’t have time to reply before Zong Chi turned to He Dongli and said, “Eating these sugary pastries late at night won’t you risk diabetes?”
He Dongli ignored him, took out a box from the bag, and handed it to Zou Yan.
Zou Yan vaguely felt as if He Dongli was handing out wedding favors.
He didn’t take it.
“Take some to the hospital. If you get hungry, come find me.”
With that, Zou Yan turned and got into the car.
As the car drove off, He Dongli looked back at Zong Chi.
“What did you say to him?”
Zong Chi held out his car keys, showing her.
“What can a person like me, with poor Chinese skills, say to your highly educated doctor friend? My liver, gallbladder, spleen, stomach, and kidneys are all fine. I don’t need him.”
“He specializes in emergency abdominal cases. Don’t be so cocky—maybe one day you’ll be under his laparoscope.”
“Please, even if I’m in pain, I won’t let him operate on me.”
“Fine, then live long and prosper.”
He Dongli said this as she turned to go inside.
She reached out to touch the iron gate, then sneezed forcefully and grabbed hold of the door before it closed.
Zong Chi pulled the door from her grip and shut it in three quick motions.
The light inside didn’t reach the doorway, so Zong Chi couldn’t clearly see her face but could imagine it.
Finally, he muttered something irrelevant, “If I live to one hundred, you’ll be ninety-nine.”
He Dongli ignored him and went inside.
Zong Chi followed and reached the stairway to the second floor, where there was a practically useless gate that could only block children or cats.
He glanced up the dimly lit stairs and ran his hand over the gate, feeling no dust.
He Dongli came back carrying the empty boxes from the coffee machine installation and stacked the foam packaging near the doorway.
Judging by Zong Chi’s stance, she thought he might try going upstairs, so she calmly reminded him, “The landlord’s own place is upstairs. You’re not allowed.”
To be honest, even renting this large downstairs space in this location was costly.
Zong Chi knew the income level of doctors like them and recalled that she hadn’t relied much on the Xu family’s favor these past years to keep her mother’s current relationship stable.
Perhaps after their separation, mother and daughter were still mother and daughter.
Ms. Yu must have privately helped her out of affection.
After putting away the boxes, He Dongli grouped all the foam packing materials together in case there was a problem with the machine and she needed to pack it up and return it.
To an outsider standing by the stairs, it looked like she was very fond of the gift from someone named Zou, the boxes lingering like treasured possessions.
Unable to resist, Zong Chi asked, “What, is the crazy woman in the attic?”
He Dongli wanted to scold him: “You haven’t treated your epilepsy all these years.”
“Someone died.”
Zong Chi didn’t doubt her for a moment.
Since she had no patience to talk properly, he cut her off, “Oh, you killed them?”
He Dongli clearly swallowed her breath.
Even if he went upstairs now and got claimed by the landlord’s late wife’s spirit or sued by the landlord’s daughter for trespassing, she wouldn’t care.
She turned and went back to her room, dialing Chen Xiangyang in a voice neither high nor low, asking how much longer his driver would take.
On the other end, the sound of mahjong clacking could be heard.
Chen Xiangyang cheerfully replied that the driver was almost there, then explained, “Because Zong Chi insisted on personally sending you, I told the driver to get off work, but he ended up sending Zong Chi back. The driver’s already on the subway. What? I couldn’t tell him otherwise. Dongli, you should sympathize with the working man. Besides, he barely drives three times a year. After that incident, his family doesn’t let him drive anymore…”
He Dongli hung up before Chen Xiangyang finished, her heart heavy.
He was referring to Zong Chi’s kidnapping incident during a Hong Kong transfer.
In principle, he bore the responsibility for his father.
Yet, his motivation to fly was because of He Dongli.
After their quarrel on the phone, Zong Chi flew back recklessly.
He blamed her in front of the family doctor and his mother: if you want to break up, do it face to face.
People who break up over the phone are despicable.
Zong Chi’s mother, Yu Weishi, was the first person He Dongli met and instantly understood the secret charm behind Zong Chi’s stories about his parents.
His mother was beautiful, radiant—an almost flawless Eastern beauty.
Yu Weishi had told He Dongli that the first time she met He Dongli’s classmates camping with Xiao Chi, she knew right away that Dongli’s classmates were special.
Trust a mother’s intuition: Xiao Chi practically had eyes only for you.
Because of the kidnapping incident, Zong Chi refused treatment in Hong Kong.